The Halloweenerie
by Atheniandream
Summary: "This is the one day, Harvey." She says firmly. "The one day of the year that is only mine." HALLOWEEN SPECIAL. COMPLETE 2/2
1. Chapter 1

**The Halloweenerie** By Atheniandream

* * *

"This is the _**one** _day, Harvey." She says firmly. "The one day of the year that is only _**mine**_."

She stands in his office, her steely demeanour trying to pick out the inconsistencies in what he's just said.

"I know, Donna. I was cornered, I… panicked." He reaffirms, a minor indent forming in his otherwise impermeable brow.

"You never panic." She states, immovably stubborn.

"This is Scottie we're talking about." He reminds her, starting to pace slightly between the armchair and the couch.

"I can't believe you said you were coming and you didn't even ask me first?" She says, flapping her arms.

He looks back at her then, his shoulders hunching and the 'little boy lost' look all over his face. "I'll make it up to you. Two bags and lunch." He barters.

"Three bags and _dinner_." She demands, sighing. It's just like him, she thinks. Just like him to change her plans and not even ask her. She'd tried to form clear outlines of what was theirs and what was hers. He'd crossed that line. "Why didnt you just tell her you wanted to spend it alone. Or... Mike?" She asks, sighing.

"Mike is with Rachel this weekend," He replies simply.

"Isn't she always…" She shrugs. _Her best friend **has** been a little lax on her commitments of late..._

She realises then, the way he's standing, his weight bearing between both his feet, his guard is down and he's looking less lost boy and more genuinely…_ in a jam._

It's the look she can't ignore. She sighs, heavier this time.

"Okay... I'll agree on two conditions," She says, feeling her resolve wane as a softer tone takes her place and she shakes her auburn hair slightly.

"What now?" He asks, the curiosity of her proposal waiting in his chiseled features.

"You are _not_ going to complain, you're going to smile the entire weekend." She says as he slumps onto the sofa.

"Fine." He relents, rolling his eyes and getting comfortable.

"And, you're going to get a costume. You're going to wear it and you're going to **like it**."

"Fine. Yes." He says, quieter this time, uncrossing his legs.

"_And_,"

"Thats three." He states, frowning.

"Whatever I say we have to do, _you have to do it_. Apple bobbing, holding children's hands, shopping for candy...anything." She says, a deliberate weight on her words.

He sighs, a restrained smile on his lips.

"Okay...Fine..Deal." He says, finally.

**_She supposes now that it had meant more than she'd first looked into. It hadn't just been about getting out of the city for the weekend..._**

* * *

Donna had noticed that Harvey had been a little off lately, especially where Scottie was concerned. Nothing had stuck out of the ordinary, they were pretty low key at work, with Dana gaining her own office, she seldom saw the woman lingering about his desk as she had once done. But she had noticed more and more his constant presence with regards to _her._ He was almost always by her side, within earshot or the regular twelve foot distance off her. She figured that they had been through so much lately that it was only natural that they stuck together, regardless of the fact that he now officially unofficially had a girlfriend, as she had teased earlier in the week.

Unfortunately for her, this was one holiday she would sooner _not_ be stuck with the man. She **loved** Halloween. Like...really, really loved it. It was why Harvey let her have it off every year, he'd known when he'd spied an email she'd been sent of her dressed as Catwoman several years earlier and made an inappropriate joke about spandex. But for her, it was really about family and community and maybe a little tiny bit about dressing up. She loved the children and the laughter and the getting dirty; words none of which she associated with her very polished Boss.

This was going to be a weird weekend, but she was determined that he **would not spoil it**. It would also give her ample time to chisel away at the silence on his lovelife and aid in trying to mend whatever situation had caused him to bow out of the city for a few days in the first place.

As she stands on the sidewalk, her suitcase packed to the gunnels, balancing on its rounded edges next to her, she hugs her scarlet coat to her chest; brushing her hair out of her eyes as the autumn wind bustles around her with a busyness. She suddenly hears the toot of a horn, gazing down the street to see Harvey pulling up in a black sports car, the window rolled down and the slither of coral tainted setting sun glinting on the polished dash.

"Kids are going to toilet paper that car." She remarks as he gets out to help her, giving her a disdainful look as he examines her heavy looking suitcase.

"Your parents have a garage, right?" He asks, narrowing his eyes.

"If they haven't decorated it they might... I wouldn't hold out any hope, though." She smiles wickedly as he opens the car door for her and pops the boot simultaneously.

"What did you pack, a dead body?" He asks dryly, shaking his head at her.

"What did I say about complaining? This is Halloween, Harvey. It's my job to bring the good stuff… _the city's best_. Which reminds me: What did you pick as an outfit?"

He steals himself then as he lifts the suitcase into the boot, frowning as it just about fits, almost too snugly. "Its a suprise." He replies, a measured look on his face.

"If its James Bond, it doesn't count." She reminds him.

"Its a suprise..." He reaffirms.

She almost glares, as if trying to see through his lawyer-like facade.

"Is it James Bond, Harvey?" She asks bluntly.

"I...enough about me." He flails. "What did you come as?"

"What every girl wants to be." She replies, smiling.

"A cat?" He jokes. He still remembers the picture, then. Her sharp glare is wasted on him.

"You know what... its a suprise." She says coyly, sinking into the leather seat and shutting the car door. "You know… there are more comfortable rides. Cortland is at least 3 hours away and it's already 12.45."

"Don't diss the car unless you're prepared to get the train, Paulsen." He said, shaking his head. "And I'll make up the time, don't you worry."

"What about? The speeding ticket or you driving us to our deaths?"

"Nice to see you have faith in my driving abilities," He remarks, straightening to turn on the ignition.

"Okay, _Hot Rod_," She accuses.

His expression readies in a challenge…

"Fine." She finally says, sitting back. "Music?"

"I came prepared." He replies simply, turning on the cd player.

Before long the smooth sounds of John Coltrane flood through the car.

"Nice choice. Mr Coltrane…" She croons, leaning back in her seat.

"I think they used to call him 'Johnny'…" He jokes, a smooth croon in his own voice.

"Does Scottie ever just...punch you in the face for being a smartass?" She suddenly says, abating the strange feeling creeping up her gut.

His face pokers instantly as he turns on the ignition. "Not yet. But there's always time."

"Harvey?" She says then, her tone lingering as she searches his features.

"Donna." He warns, sensing her tone.

It's all he has to say really. She knows when to leave it.

**_Thinking back, it was best to leave it. _**

**_She wouldn't have been ready for the truth._**

* * *

"I can't believe it." He says, still peering into the cat's eyes lining the side of the road as the lights flood the otherwise darkening freeway.

"I'm not lying...I've never seen it." Donna shrugs.

"But it's _the Godfather_… it's a trilogy. Not only that," Harvey splutters. "It's a dynasty. Film royalty."

"Ah, see now, Dynasty, I've actually seen. Both versions. The remake was..." Her sentence trails off as she makes a face.

"You're a dork." He says, glancing at her. "Aren't you supposed to be a 'theatre buff'?"

"Unless it's Godfather on Broadway, then no, for the fifth time, Harvey. I've not seen it. You're such a film snob." She accuses, shuffling in her seat.

"I may be a snob, but I'm just… really, you haven't seen it?" He asks, still dumbfounded.

"Please shut up. No. And no, I'm not watching it with you. Or Mike."

"Even Jessica's seen it. I'll bet even Rachel's seen it now," He says, clearly trying to get a rise out of her.

"Rachel would never watch that…"

"You wanna bet?" He challenges. She can't work out if he has the information or not, but plays at arrogant just in case.

"My best friend, against a woman that you've spoke to as many times as I can count on one hand? Sure? Why not push it," She narrows her gaze.

"Let's call Mike, shall we?" He proposes, challenging her as he fishes his phone out of his pocket.

She shakes her head, indignation all over her face. "Ah, so I see it didn't take you long to remember _Mike's_ cell phone number," She says, watching him punch in the number.

"It's on speed dial," He says, giving her a look.

"Still," She says, fishing.

He gives her a stronger look as he turns on the speakerphone. "Your number is in my phone, Donna. And no, I'm not telling you what number you are." He manages as the phone connects.

"Hello?" They both hear the familiar sound of Mike Ross down the phone.

"Mike; have you shown Rachel the Godfather trilogy yet?"

"Hi Harvey, yeah I'm great. No, I'm not out having dinner right now, ask any erroneous questions you need to," comes the droll reply of their friend.

"Mike it's important. Have you watched it with her yet?"

"I'm intrigued as to why it's that important at this very moment,"

"Just answer the question." Harvey demands, his patience wearing.

"Kind of…" Mike says.

Harvey glances at Donna then, the ambiguousness of Mike's answer painting the air electric between them.

"What does that mean?" He asks, looking to her once more as she takes the receiver to free up his hands.

"She watched half of it...she really wasn't into it. And again, why are you so interested?" He asks.

"Oh..I was just thinking of what to rent for our date next week. We're staying in; didn't she tell you?" Harvey jokes, taking the phone out of Donna's hands quickly to end the call, the splutter of Mike dissipating into the receiver.

"So..._you_ lost?" She states, her eyebrow arching at him. "Interesting."

"No… she watched it." He defends.

"Not the whole thing. And she hated it. You lost, Specter."

"I don't think that we quite outlined the rules of this wager," He says, glancing down the highway.

"I think we were _very_ clear. You lose… and I pick your costume." She smiles in victory.

"It's not going to happen." He refuses, focusing back on the road.

"You lost. Losers forfeit." She says, her voice playful as she toys with the fact.

He smiles softly, quietly at her. Her attention is caught as they arrive in her neighbourhood, the Cortland sign flashing past them.

"We're nearly there. Are you ready for this? The Paulsen Halloween is no ordinary Halloween, you know."

"I've met _you_. I think I'm prepared." He assures her as the sat nav directs them along the road.

The neighbourhood is quaint, full of an array of houses all decorated with garlands and lights and colourful looking pumpkins. It's your typical family inspired neighbourhood, something far too wholesome and stayed to suppress a woman such as Donna indefinitely. The sat nav breaks his reverie as they pull up to a house. It's dark, even for a wintery 4pm but he can make out the old-english style with it's white panels and dark cottage like framing. Its looks like a spooky haunted house, with dark trees alight with dripping candle lights and trails of bottled red candles lining the garden path. There is something strangely authentically scary about this house. With it's lined graveyards on the lawn looking oddly real and cobwebs lining the window frames of an otherwise charming house you could mistake being plopped into any horror movie from at least twenty years ago.

"Is this the family home?" He asks.

"We like to keep it realistic." She warns. "And yes.. this is the Paulsen family home. Is there a problem?"

"You really are weird," He muses.

"I'll take that as a compliment." She grins, getting out of the car.

"Where's the garage?" He calls after her. She turns on the lawn, grinning. She laughs when he shakes his head at her through the dash.

She notices him shuffle on the doorstep as she knocks the frontdoor. It's the first time in three hours that she's really looked at him. If she's honest with herself, she's stopped looking at him too long in any fashion after the last few months of events. After Stephen, it wasn't five minutes before Scottie had returned into Harvey's life to unsettle their already strained working relationship. Her attention focuses as she notices him staring at her, waiting.

"Don't you have a key?" He asks.

"It's not my house anymore, Harvey." She chides. "The car's gone but someone must be here..." She muses, peering into the dark window.

Before Harvey can reply, the door opens roughly and a small blonde young woman in a tight black lycra outfit - but no cat ears - grabs Donna down into a hug. "Thank god you're here! Mom didn't buy enough candy again," She says, her eyes resting onto a sharp looking Harvey.

"Hey Abby," Donna replies mirthfully, pulling herself out of the younger woman's grasp.

She looks up, giving Harvey a look. "And who is this tall drink of water?" She asks, glancing at Donna briefly before holding her hand out.

"Abby this is Harvey Specter, my...boss? Harvey, this is Abby, my…"

"Her younger, more charming sister," She interrupts, shaking Harvey's hand before looking back at her sister. "And what is this? 'Bring your attractive Boss to Halloween day'?"

"Halloween 'day'? Abby, really? Where's your husband?" She asks, making a point of ushering her sister into the hallway before Harvey can even comment.

"Oh, he's outside with the kids. They insisted that Grandma and Grandpa's house was not complete without pumpkins."

"Figures. And I'm likely to agree at this point."

She notices Harvey shuffle once more. "I'll uh… get the suitcase." He says.

"Okay." She smiles softly in reply, ignoring the confused look in his eyes as he makes his way out to his car.

"Why is your Boss here? And why have I never met him before?" Abby asks, in hushed tones.

"Abby. He's just a friend. And it's a long story." Donna says, the need to explain feeling far too awkward.

"Just a friend, huh? How long-a story?" She pushes, looking up at her older sister.

"Abby..." She warns, rolling her eyes.

"How many times has he been...'just a friend'?" Abby asks, the words played for a effect.

"I swear to god Abby, cut it out. Now. He is **_not_** single and we are **just** friends. Don't say a thing, otherwise-"

"I swear you make these moments ten times less fun than they could be-" Her sister grumbles.

"-otherwise, we'll tell your highschool sweetheart of a husband what you got up to during Spring break," She barters, warning gently.

"Is this about that gym instructor?" A youngish man asks cooly as three young blonde children flood the hallway, running rings around them both. She smiles at the man, as he gives his wife knowing a squeeze.

"Aunt Donna!" A little girl screams behind him as she grabs hold of Donna's side, her shiny plastic Angel's costume fluffing slightly as her curly hair falls over her face.

"Hey Penny Penny!" She exclaims, grabbing the girls arm to have her twirl. "That's a mighty fine Angel costume you got there."

"It's her third," A little boy points out, wrapped in a sheet. "She ripped the last two."

"Hey Mason. Are you a ghost?" Donna asks, smiling ruefully at the slightly older boy.

"No." He frowns. "I'm a Roman."

"Ahh. And Delilah," She says, spying the strawberry blonde one hugging her Mom. "You're a pretty wicked witch!"

"Thanks!" Delilah says, looking at Donna's outfit. "What's your costume?"

"I've got to change into mine. But it's a secret. Sshhhh." She says.

"I like your bag…" Penny says as she joins her sister by Donna's side.

"Why thankyou. You know what guys, if you finish your pumpkins, there might be a little bit of early candy for you. Candy from New York?"

Both girls erupt in hollars and cheers as they run back out into the garden, followed by their brother.

"So what are we gossiping about?" Abby's husband asks, noticing the suspicious hallway huddle.

"Ahh…" Abby starts to say.

"Nothing-Harvey! Great, you got the suitcase, uh. Joe, this Harvey Specter. We ah...work together Harvey, this is Abby's husband, Joe."

"Nice to meet you," Joe says, leaning in to shake Harvey's hand."

"Thanks. Sorry I crashed your uh...big event." Harvey says, a rare sincerity on his face as he looks between the couple.

"Oh that's no problem, there's always a ton to do here. You'll be busy," Abby says, spying her sister glaring at her. "Believe me."

"So," Donna interrupts, taking a moment to eye up her sister before looking back to Harvey. "We better get this uh...party started." She says, making for the stairs and gesturing for Harvey to follow.

She spies her sister glaring at her deliberately with every step she takes.

_**She realises then. Her sister picked up on it. Just like everyone else...**_

* * *

"So this is… your bedroom?" He asks slowly, looking around the room. She'd forgotten that her mother had had enough ten years ago and completely remodeled it into a quaint guest room. "It's not the Breakfast club teen dream I thought it would be."

"Ah. You were expecting a remake of a Molly Ringwald movie, weren't you?" She asks, smirking.

"She was pretty hot." He remarks, picking up a trinket on an otherwise plain room.

"My mom changed it into a guest room a while back. What with Abby and Joe and the kids, _and my Aunts_, there really wasn't much room for my nostalgic childhood memory." She shrugs, unpacking her case.

"So...it did look like the film…?" He asks, something playing in his head that she can't quite grasp.

"She was a great role model for Redheads." She shrugs, sitting on the bed beside the case.

"Which reminds me. Are you the only redhead in the Paulsen clan?" He asks, taking off his suit jacket.

"What can I say? I'm a classy throwback. Hence the role model. I suppose your childhood role model was Mickey Mantle? Or Maybe Hugh Hefner?" She accuses jokingly.

"Well it certainly wasn't Andrew Mccarthy," He replies bluntly, throwing her a look.

"Cute." She said. "I'm sorry by the way...about Abby. She's a gossip. And she has no male friends, at all, so."

"It's fine. Although, I'm surprised that your only sister knows nothing about me."

"That's because my private life is separate from my work. Usually. Like yours and...Scottie's is." She says carefully.

He winces, moving back towards his own smaller suitcase. She's hit a nerve as she watches him quietly sort his things and immediately regrets the action.

"Are you wishing now that you hadn't come?" She asks him.

"No." He says, shaking his head slightly. "And uh...thanks. I needed to get out of the city for a while and Markus has hauled his family up to Alaska for the weekend. I didn't really feel like skiing."

"Figures. Not comfortable holled up in your glass tower of an apartment either?"

"Scottie's… there. She uh...she moved in." He replies.

She hadn't been expecting that. He'd never once mentioned it. "Oh." She faked a smile smile. "I didn't know."

"Yeah." He says quietly.

"How do you feel about that?"

"Do I sound like a dick if say that I think it's… too soon?"

"Yes. Unfortunately." She smiles again, warmer this time. "How long's it been?"

"Since she moved in? Two weeks."

"You've lived alone for a long time, Harvey. It's just gonna take time," She tries to assure him. She can see in his eyes that it's not the time.

"Can we… not?" He asks, wincing.

The words themselves are harsh, save for his soft tone. She could see he wasn't ready to talk on her second attempt but she can't help but push the bar with him.

"Sure." She says.

"So what horrific costume do I have to wear?" He asks, immediately accusing.

"I text my sister on the way, and she managed to snag something so…"

"It better not be a star trek outfit." He glares.

"Like you wouldn't...one sec, I'll go find it."

When she returns moments later, his face says it all,

"Batman?" He enquires, clearly displeased.

"What? I thought it was a great choice." She says, eyes wide.

"Can't I just go as Bruce Wayne?"

"Harvey..._you promised_."

"I'm **not** wearing that. And I'm assuming that your sister is the one going as Catwoman? Isn't that going to be a little… inappropriate?"

"No. She's just a Cat. Although if she tells you different then I'd steer clear of her. She's a little handsy when she drinks."

"Must be a Paulsen thing." He says, that dangerously wavering look in his eye.

"Harvey," The words come as a reflex, a gut reaction to the way he seems to be looking at her. "For that comment, you can put this on…" She says, handing him the costume.

"Unless you're going as Poison Ivy...no deal." He says.

"I'm not changing my costume at last minute. It's taken me WEEKS to prepare…"

"So...ask your sister to change?" He asks.

She stares at him, an exasperated look ready on her tired face. "Is this some desperate ploy to see me in Spandex?"

"Oh I remember what you looked like in Spandex. And now that you've pointed it out, I don't want your married sister having an excuse to hit on me."

She weighs up the options. It doesn't take her long...

"Seeing as the only other option would have me ruining your suit...you got yourself a deal, Batman."

"You were going to go as a zombie bride, weren't you?" He asks on a hunch.

"When you see Abby, you'll get your answer."

* * *

It turns out it had only taken ten minutes of persuasion and bribery to have her Sister swap costumes, but an added 25 minutes to make her costume work for her sister, given their vast difference in height.

"Could you stop pulling my waist in?" Abby moans, holding onto the towel rail.

"I can't help it if you're prematurely reaching the middle aged spread, Abs. Or should I say 'flabs'?" She jokes, elbowing her sister.

"Hey, spinster sis, I wouldn't be pointing the finger. Having the american dream and three kids isn't exactly easy,"

"Yeah yeah… whatever. Okay, done. What do you think?" She asks, turning her sister towards the mirror.

"I think I'm the best looking Zombie Bride in whole of upstate New York. And the cleavage is…"

"Stop staring at your own breasts. You're a mother and an adult."

"Like you don't...okay," She says, flinging the black spandex towards Donna. "Now it's your turn." She challenges.

**_Donna knows exactly where this is leading. _**

_Seven Minutes later..._

"Donna. Come out of the damn bathroom." Abby shouts at the door, her hand pounding on the solid wood.

"I'll just be another minute." Donna says weakly on the other side.

"What, does it not fit?" She asks, huffing.

"Uh...kind of." She hears the muffled reply.

"You always did have a bigger rack-Harvey!" She jumps when the man appears behind her, fully clad in the costume her husband had worn a few years back. "Wow. You've really got that chiselled look down... Donna," She calls into the door. "I'm gonna need that spandex back!" She says, wrapping on the door behind her.

"Nice… zombie bride?" Harvey says.

"Thanks. Donna's. Girl loves the dramatic." She says, rolling her eyes.

"Don't I know it. Donna?" He calls into the door. "We made a deal. I look like an ass. Get out here."

The two stand there as they hear footsteps and rustling behind the door, until it opens, Donna emerging in head to toe black spandex, leather shoes and the missing cat ears. Her wide, kohl rimmed eyes find Harvey's, the ambiguous expression on his face again and something, possibly half sarcastic waiting on his lips. She doesn't even bother to look at her sister. She knows what expression is waiting there.

"Don't say a god damned word…" She warns, pointing the finger at him.

"Well, all you need is the whip and you're done." Her sister remarks, smirking devilishly.

"I'm not holding the whip." She says, folding her arms over the stretched lycra material. "Besides, Adam West's catwoman didn't have a whip."

"I'm not the Adam West Batman. Thankgod." He answers, straightening somewhat.

"Well we're not dressed as a couple, Harvey, so," She points out, stalking past him on her heels. "You better not be looking at my ass, Specter." She calls behind her.

"It's okay. I was too. She always did have a **great** ass." Her sister says boldly nudging him.

"Who are you people?" He asks, giving her a look.

"Come on Batman, we have Halloween to stage for the whole of Cortland." She replies, following Donna.

"Donna said it was a big deal." Harvey enquires.

"Well we are the famous _Halloween House_…"

"Why does that seem like more than you're saying." Harvey asks, narrowing his gaze at the little blonde.

"It's hard work, but it's fun. Come on, Hustle." She says.

When they walk downstairs, the hallway and lounge look decidedly more Halloween-ey, with draped garlands and more fake cobwebs than you can shake a graveyard at. The kitchen is large and covered in cakes and sweet and bowls of punch.

"So what's the deal here?" Harvey sidles up to Donna as she pulls open bags and bags of candy.

"Every year we do a kind of walk through; with a pagan-themed spread in the lounge and haunted hallways, ghosts in the bathroom and a kitchen full of candy and faked blood. The front lawn is a graveyard and the backyard is the site for a satanic ritual." She reams of the list as he stares blankly at her.

"So you're going with...70's satanic horror? Doesn't that scare the little kids?" He asks, frowning. It's not his idea of a children-friendly Halloween.

"That's the point. Parents actually bring their children here for the scare factor. It's Joe's job to make little kids laugh if they get too scared, whilst the older kids can roam about the house, and _we_ create the mayhem." She says, piling fondant fingers onto a plate. "And then we take Abby's kids door-to-door and then get drunk on the 'good' punch."

"That's our itinerary?"

"To the scary letter, yeah. Problem, Batman?" She asks, her grin purposefully catlike.

"Not at all...Catwoman."

"Where's my long lost daughter?" Says a voice out in the hall. Donna smiles immediately, following the sound, as a familiar silver grey haired woman appears in the entryway to the kitchen.

"Hey Mom. Sorry I'm late." She says to her mother, kissing her cheek.

"Oh my god, Donna. You look like a hooker." Her mother says, pulling back to observe her.

"Abby's costume." Donna shrugs.

"Figures. And this is…Harvey? Harvey Specter, Is that you in there?" She asks, peering through her thin rimmed glasses and halloween-themed sweater.

Harvey shuffles, extending a hand. "Nice to meet you again, Mrs Paulsen."

"I see my daughter has forced the spirit of Halloween upon you?" She asks, a warm smile on her face.

"I lost a bet." He replies, smiling back softly.

"A bet that looks good on you." She says, looking at his costume.

"Thanks. Are you also dressing up?"

"Yes...every year I play Mrs Lovett, the gruesome cook for the Demon Barber of Fleet Street. You know 'Sweeney Todd'?"

"It's a musical," Donna chimes, filling in the gaps.

"You sure do like your musicals in this house." Harvey says dryly.

"Only because Donna was such a fan as a child," Mrs Paulsen explains, laughing softly.

"I'll bet."

"Well, we're late. I had to buy more taffy, and your father was complaining about his ghost costume so I bought almost ton of talc. We better get set up. Are you helping us, Harvey?"

"That's...what I'm here for," He shrugged.

It was the first time she'd ever seen Harvey look unsure. She supposed that he wasn't used to being around such a zany family. Given, his brother was a little bit of a free spirit, but he'd been so far removed from the idea of sustained family since his Dad had died, that it was perhaps a strange idea to be thrown amongst the Paulsens. But he had invited himself, so Donna wasn't going to linger on the thought for too long. It was his job to play ball and he knew it.

It was a quiet moment as the evening dawned around six o'clock, as the street started to take on an electricity. The kids were already hyper on Candy, running about the house in their various costumes as their father - dressed as a cowboy - tried to placate them with fluids and carbs as the rest of the family finished up in the house.

"So, what excuse did you give Jessica for taking a Thursday off?" Donna asks as they stack creepy looking candles on the coffee table."

"I'm managing partner; I told her the truth. I was 'taking the day to spend Halloween out of the city'."

She frowns, collecting herself to ask"Does she know you're… with _me_?" She asks him.

"I'm not sure she would care if I was. It's none of her business." He says gruffly.

"I meant Scottie."

"Ah...yes. She does." He says, his face falling.

"Really?"

"Well I couldn't tell her that I was with Mark, she's knows him, she'd want to...come. And I'm not ready for that." He says reluctantly.

"Harvey…" She chides gently, straightening against her tight catsuit. "You're just scared. It's a big commitment, to ask her to move in with you,"

"I didn't, actually. She...suggested. I didn't refuse the notion, but."

"Ah. _Oh_…"

"Yeah."

It explained a lot. Him fleeing the city like a criminal with hot feet.

"Harvey, you can't run away from the woman living in your home."

"Donna… I know that." He says, slumping somewhat.

"What did she say when you said you were coming to Cortland with me?"

"I told her that we did it every year with your family and that I'd be back for dinner tomorrow night."

"Harvey, she's not going to like that you here… with _me_."

"She's going to have to deal with that."

"You keep running away from her. Why? She loves you."

"I...need space. I need time."

"There's time and space all around you, Harvey. You've got to deal with it some time." She says, looking at him through the glowing, very scary looking lounge.

"Yeah. Maybe you're right."

"I'm always right and you know it." She says, punching his arm softly.

"We better go find everyone. We're taking the kids door-to-door soon." She says, standing.

"I have to go out in this thing?" He asks, eyes wide.

"Of course. What? You thought you could hide in the house? Batman doesn't lurk in Old haunted houses, Harvey. He walks out on sidewalk with Leatherface, Catwoman and everybody else."

"Oh, but Zombie brides have pride and place on the lawn?" He questions.

"I'll have you know I was going to be the main feature of the whole operation! I gave up the main role to my sister _for you_, you know."

"Three Bags."

"Four if you keep going." She warns softly.

* * *

"Aunt Donna; can we go to that house by ourselves?" Delilah asks, pulling on Donna's arm as her brother and sister wait eagerly behind her.

"Sure, I don't see why not; you want me to hold your candy for you?" She asks the little girl.

"No...I'm good." Says Delilah, her slow drawl of being only four as she and her brother and sister join the queue to a large overly decorated house. She watches as Harvey shifts in his costume, his dark eyes seeming all the darker.

"Oh my god it's Batman!" Calls a kid behind him, as he turns round to face a little boy dressed as a very sixties robin.

"Hey...Robin. I've been looking for you." He says spontaneously, as the kid shuffles in front of him.

"Have you? There's a few Robins around here. Maybe you've gotten confused with my brother?"

Harvey looks on to see a slightly taller boy dressed in the same outfit. He hears Donna stifle a laugh beside him as he waves back.

"What's your brother's name?" Donna asks, chiming in.

"Henry. I'm David." The kid says proudly.

"Hey David. Yeah..we uh, we're not looking for a David. Or a Henry. Sorry kid." Harvey says.

"Okay. Well I guess this is goodbye, Mr Batman." The kid replies, saluting him.

"I guess this is, Mr Robin. Happy Halloween." He calls after the boy, who waves back with a lopsided smile.

"That was a adorable." Donna notes, all but slinking up to Harvey.

"God, it's cold. Batman never had to put up with this crap." Harvey grumbles, a small shiver running down him.

"No. I'll gather he had other things than the weather on his mind. Here," She says, nudging him conspicuously with a small flask. "Drink this."

"You stole some punch, didn't you?" His eyes flick up to hers, lighting at the accusation.

"I'm resourceful. There's a kick in there, too." She whispers.

"Isn't there always," He remarks, taking a swig; the tropical, slightly saccharin taste of vodka laced punch warming his insides. "I wondered what was in that. Vodka?"

"Vodka and Gatorade." She says, looking on to where the children are looking through their candy.

"Classic." He says, "But isn't this a little irresponsible whilst minding young children?"

"When you spend as many Halloweens with children as I do, you'll know it saves to take the edge off when you're not wearing a bra." She says, drawing an ice cool breath as she hugs herself to stifle a chill. "You're not getting a look, Batman." She warns.

"Catwoman would...show Batman." He plays, staring at her intently. The mask makes his eyes all the brighter in the dimly lit street. Her black lined eyes stare back with equally potent strength.

"Well, its a shame I'm just pretending." She says. It's only when she hears the words aloud that she realises just how misconstrued they sound. She backs off instantly. Too bad she's unaware of the anonymous kid running behind her. The kid is stout, knocking into the back of her leg, replies of sorry as he looks behind himself but continues to run, her toppling slightly on one highheel. Her hands came out in a reflex, as his hands grab her arm and waist.

"I….thanks." She said, avoiding his eye. In a flash she's out of his arms and walking away from him, a rebounding expression as if he hadn't just caught her. "Uh, can you wait here for Mason, he's run over to 14 now? I'll go get Delilah and Gabby?" She says hurriedly, not waiting for an answer.

"Donna." He calls after her. She still doesn't answer him, nor hear his frustrated growl.

* * *

It's only when they meet back up and the kids are walking ahead of them that he takes the opportunity.

_She wishes he hadn't_.

"Donna...Donna." He says. She feels the need to pick up the pace, but his hand is already on her arm. _They're touching too much..._

"Stop..." Her thoughts flood her head and suddenly she's saying things out in the open, in front of her sister's kids and the man in question.

He doesn't let it go. _What made her think that he would?_

"Stop what?" He asks, halting. She looks on to see the kids waiting in a huddle, talking amongst themselves.

"Nothing, I was just...nothing. It's nothing." She says, backtracking.

"_I guess ten years doesn't mean that much_," He suddenly says. She can't work out whether he let it slip or deliberately put it out there, but before she can even reason on an impartial level she's already caught up with the kids, leaving him standing.

He doesn't catch up with her this time, instead lags behind for the last two blocks.

She's glad that he doesn't.

**_Looking back, they'd have fucked it up if he had._**

* * *

He's not sure why he's ambling in the hallway. The children are mostly gone now, with the main scaring hours starting to wind down as children are put to bed and house parties begin. He hears the feint sound of Abby and Joe upstairs with the kids and another potterer - maybe Mrs Paulsen - in another room. He daren't go outside to garden. He has no idea where Donna is but he suspects she's out there with that little flask of hers cursing his name into the slightly spooky wind.

He's not even sure why he's here.

He could have booked a hotel in the city. Or gone to Alaska. Really, maybe skiing would have been more fun and less...complicated.

But, like always his mouth ran away with him and it seemed like a better idea than any other that he'd made up.

_He knows,_

Knows that she keeps him...sane. Keeps him level when he feels like he's going to snap. He's at peace with the fact now. Another man trying to steal what wasn't rightfully his could do that to a man. And he's sure, damned sure that wanting more is a stupid thing that he doesn't want and shouldn't have but then,

**_It's her._**

And she has been so many things in so fewer years that he's at a loss as to a time when she won't be the person that he gravitates to in times of stress.

He knows that Scottie can't do that for him. But he never realised that it was a problem before, that the woman you fuck had to be the woman to heal your wounds.

He'd worked so well in the past separating the two.

"Good evening Batman..." Says an interesting voice in the direction of the closet. He notices the slim light and walks towards it, opening the door to find a smallish man with long limbs, white-powdered hair and a pipe hanging from his lips sitting with his legs crossed and a small black and white television on a pokey shelf next him blaring what looks like the news.

"Mr Paulsen?" Harvey asks, squinting. "You're uh..."

"In the closet." He finishes for him, exhaling a puff of smoke into the air. "Halloween duties."

"Of course. Every house needs a...television watching ghost."

"It's a bargaining tool. Marjory allows me to watch the portable if I deign to entertain the village folk with a...little ghost rendition." He says, his words long and lavish sounding for such a small and unimposing looking man. He'd only met the man briefly once, when they'd stayed in his apartment. Donna definitely got her dramatic flare from her father, that was for sure.

"I've heard great things of your work, sir."

"Is that right? Someone's been bragging no doubt. Speaking of which, where is my darling daughter?" He asks Harvey.

"Donna? I uh...outside I think?" He replies, an noticeable stammer in his answering, _which for a lawyer isn't the best thing..._

"I smell a complication. What have you done that she doesn't like?" He asks. The words are incredulous, somehow. Not laced with accusal or finger-pointing as they might typically be.

"It's my fault." Harvey says.

"Well, the first step to resolution is absolution. Donna is a reasonable person...and I think you are a man who achieves what he sets his mind to. Am I right?" He finishes, with another dramatic puff of smoke.

_This man is an enigma._ No wonder Donna has the reputation she has. He always thought that it was a character, a thing born of creativity and thought. But it was...just her, just a Paulsen thing.

_Funny, that..._

"It's nice to meet you again, Mr Paulsen." He says, bowing his head slightly.

"You too, Harvey. And if my wife asks, praise the candied apples."

"Oh, I shall Sir." He smirks, leaving the older man to the crackly television.

* * *

He notices a flash of red lingering around the back of the garden, next to the tool shed. It occurs to him that this is the strangest house in Upstate New York, let alone Cortland.

"Hey. Look...I'm sorry." His voice is rough when he finally catches up with her, the moonlight stretching out in streaks between them.

"Harvey, why did you even invite yourself here?" She says, leaning against a small wall.

"I told you. I needed to get away; get out of the city."

"You can't just run to me every time you have a relationship problem."

"But you're always-" He splutters.

"I mean, you can't run, literally run to me. Of course you can talk to me about it, but you can't just go running off and away from the woman you're living with."

She's right. And yet, he feels like he should be allowed to think that she's wrong.

"Why is it such an issue? It's not like you were going to bring anybody?" He says and means it. He suddenly wishes he hadn't when her eyes flash at him.

"How did you know that I wasn't?" She fires, clearly angry again.

There's a beat between them. He knows that she knows he's trying to work her out again. It's more frustrating than he'd ever imagined it would be, being in the middle of it all, until an idea forms in his head of the kind of man she goes for these days.

Blue eyes.

Blonde hair.

_And..._

"Were you? Going to bring someone?" He asks. It's a shrewd observation on his part.

Her face blanches, taking on a whiteness against her smudged eyeliner and lipstick.

* * *

"Donna? Were you gonna bringing someone?" He says, the words still ringing in her head.

She watches in slow motion as his face lights up like it did with Stephen.

"It's none of your-" She fires, but he cuts her off.

"Donna…?"

She shakes her head minutely. "No. No I wasn't. But," She sighs, heavily, leaning back to sit on the brick wall. "Maybe I should have." The words hurt far more than she should allow them to. "I shouldn't have let you come here. Things...they've just not been the same lately, have they?"

"No. They haven't." He admits.

"Why? Nothing's changed."

"You really think that?" He asks. "Donna, look at me." He demands, moving closer to her.

"Don't do this." She pleads, a frown etching at her face.

"Donna,"

"Harvey let's just leave it in the past. Okay?"

"Donna…"

"Listen, you have someone who loves you, probably waiting in your apartment right now." The words stall him enough to let her continue. "Somebody who has loved you for over ten years, Harvey." His eyes narrow, just a split second worth. She can see the variance in his eyes. "Probably not even ten years; fifteen years. You owe it to her to try to make it work."

"Donna...this isn't about Scottie, look. I can't help but think that… this isn't over with us. That it's never been."

"It's over. _Let it go_."

"I won't ever be okay...seeing you with another man. Stephen..._changed that_."

She sneers almost, closing her eyes. "It gets easier, Harvey. I promise."

"So it does bother you?" He says, moving an inch closer.

"What?" She says, trying to work out his intention.

"Scottie."

"Harvey. I'm not getting into this with you,"

"You're already in this with me. Does it bother you?" He presses, almost toe to toe with her now.

"Whether it bothers me or not, isn't important. I want you to be happy." Her large eyes, even larger still as she looks up at him.

"Pushing me away doesn't solve that."

"Stop trying to bring it around to that!" She finally shout.

She's had enough. For the first time in a long time she feels like the one being pushed. It's a sobering feeling. She understands in that moment why he hates it so much when she does it.

"I think you should leave." She says, her arms folding over her chest in a seemingly protective manner.

"Donna.."

"I'm serious. You should go."

She waits for what feels like an eternity for the moment that never comes, watching his steely demeanour solidify all the more as his silence refusal bores into hers. It unnerves her, pushing her. She starts to bolt, stealing all it takes to move from the spot.

"Donna…" The word floods out of him with intention that she's not heard in a long time, his fingers finding her cinched waist, another playing with her hand.

"Harvey, if you hurt her… then you're hurting me too." She whispers.

It hits him then like a sack of reason. He drops her hand like a lava rock.

And he's still stood there, out in the cold long after she's gone inside.

**_When she thinks back, she should have seen it then; as the blocks came tumbling down on their perfect arrangement._**

One

By

One.

* * *

FACT: Whiskey isn't working. And sooner or later her father's going to find out he's missing half a bottle.

She feels fourteen again, except her hands are older, the knowledge of balancing a glass of potent liquid is well practised and fluid like the drink itself. She slumps on the barstool, analysing the draped decorations, fake blood and marzipan fingers on the sideboard.

"There any left in the bottle for me?"

She rolls her eyes at his voice. Hand it to him for completely ignoring her as he slides up onto a bar stool, sans cape, mask and chest plate. He looks like a middle aged biker, oddly hot and a little bit like his father.

"What?" He asks, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Nothing," She brushes the question off, sipping at her drink before placing it carefully down on the counter and pushing it to the side until it's in front of him.

He knows better than to object to her hand-me-downs and takes the class quietly, wincing at the difference in flavour. It's not Macallan.

The silence spans a gap that even she is not willing to bridge.

"You were right." He finally says huskily.

"I always am." She says, smirking to herself.

"I shouldn't put you in the middle. You're just... always there anyway. And…"

"And…?"

"I can't hurt her. I'm not that kind of guy."

"You knew that already…" She says, finally looking back at him.

"What do we do?" He asks softly. Almost too softly for the man whose voice it is.

"We don't do anything. Look," She says, sighing as she swivels in her chair, walking around the countertop to pick another glass out of the cabinet. "If you're not 'in love' with her, then you go back tomorrow and you end it. But you tell her. Properly; that it has nothing to do with_ anyone_ except-"

"I can't say that," He says deftly.

A shiver runs down her back that makes her immediately angry. "It doesn't matter, Harvey. You still tell her that. Even when she asks, which she will; you tell her that it's just about you and her, that you're not in love with her and that you're not willing to hurt her anymore."

He places the glass on the counter, rubbing at his face.

"Why do you always know what to do?" He asks, the tension flooding out of him.

"Because...I've been there before." She says, pouring them both another glass. It takes a second before she's willing to look at him again, when a wave of nausea hits her. "I'll... just be a sec." She says suddenly.

"Want me to hold your hair back?" He calls after her, grinning into his scotch.

* * *

"Oh god… I think I'm drunk." She says, frowning.

"Oh, _I know_ you're drunk." He confirms, a lax grin of his own as he watches her return from the bathroom. Somewhere between the scotch and wanting to move away from the thick atmosphere of their situation they'd ended up in the very ritualistic looking lounge, the tv on silent tainting everything in the room with a hazy light as images flashed of the days events and other local news headlines. He shifts in his spot, a crick in his neck as she slumps on her end of the couch.

"Oh yeah? How so? I'm not handsy…" She challenges with a droll, arching her eyebrow as her arm comes up along the sofa to rest her head against it.

"You're slumping." He points to her, smirking in his way.

"I'm tired. I've been minding children all day. And you're not exactly _sober_."

"No. I'm...definitely drunk." He exclaims, a smug expression lighting his face.

She can't help the impulse, pulling the pillow from behind her back to throw at him.

It's the worst thing to do to a man like him. It lights him up like Vegas on a winning streak. She can almost see his mind reel, battle in his consciousness between thought and action. She takes the opportunity to stand.

"Okay… I'm going to bed." She reasons, masking the frisson of electricity running down her chest. "You have the couch."

"Donna," He starts to protest, disappointment on his face for what she assumes are a number of reasons.

"No butts. Blankets are over there," She points to the armchair and the throws neatly folded there. "Goodnight Harvey."

She waits just a split second for him to gather the situation, and finally settle at that before turning to leave. "Goodnight, Donna." He acquiesces.

* * *

She's been awake for an hour, turning roughly in the bed as it creaks beneath her.

That's the problem. _She always lets the trouble in_, she thinks. She should have cut the situation off at the pass when he'd invited himself along. She should have known then, that it was a bad situation to begin with. But yet again, when it comes to him, she thinks of him, and **him** only. It's a habit that she's sure she'll never break and even that is lacking in virtue nowadays.

The quiet knock is almost prophesied.

She flaps the duvet back, eliciting a puff of cold air on her warm body, shaking her head at thoughts of her adult sister with her ear against the wall. She readies her expression when she opens the door to see him slightly ruffled and tired around the eyes.

"I'm not gonna do anything. But the couch...is the most uncomfortable thing I have-"

She cuts his measured explanation, gesturing inside. "No groping." She warns.

"Of course not." He says, following her until she gestures to the other side.

"No spooning." She demands.

"Fine."

"No stealing the covers."

"You're the one who-"

"Ah!" She stops him, her hands coming out in front of her in the only physical protest she has left.

"Fine, deal." He says. _She wonders if this is 'him sulking'..._

"Good." She says, wincing at him for effect as she takes hold of her side of the duvet.

Suddenly, she can almost feel him smiling. It's infuriating to the very core of her being and she shuffles almost to the end of her side of the bed, the curling of the mattress edge touching her knee.

She remembers then that he snores. _It's going to be a long night..._

But he still knows she hates it, and somehow waits for her to fall asleep first.

_**Oddly a gentleman to the end.**_

* * *

I'll try and get the second part out over the weekend to match the days! Happy Halloween everybody!


	2. Chapter 2

**The Halloweenerie By Atheniandream**

**_Chapter 2._**

* * *

**_Notes: Many Thanks for the encouragement. It's taken ages to get through this. Bring on Spring Suits!_**

* * *

Donna.

When she wakes in the morning, slowly but surely there are three sensations waiting to greet her:

And even pounding in her head,

The thick fume of her own alcohol laden morning breath,

And the feeling of relaxed muscle beneath her fingers.

All three are met with calming approval and for a brief moment she revels in the comfort of being gently molded to another _very warm_ body.

But, with a damned, almost hellish timing, a fourth and fifth sensation start to define themselves. She stiffens completely as her eyes open and begin to tackle a focus,

On the distinct hairline and hair colour of her Boss,

And his even more signature cologne. Hugo Boss. _Typical_.

He must have felt her fingers twitch but not move as he breathes out heavily, his hand loosely covering hers.

She starts to sweat, feeling a slightly feverish wave that only occurs in those completely hungover, flu-infested or immersed in pre-pubescent teen years. _Typical_. Her mind reels at the few options of releasing her hand without him noticing or waking up suddenly.

Considering the particular holiday, cutting off her hand seems like the only sensible option at this point...

A loud knock at the door eliminates the odds, Harvey's head leaving the pillow and dropping her hand simultaneously. She stills behind him.

"Lovebirds?" Her sister's voice rings out from the hallway, her husband's muffled annoyances following soon after. "We're getting breakfast at **Toni's**. You coming, or _are you_…?" The words are drowned out by something Joe says and the reacting sound of a protest on the other side of the door. "Fifteen minutes Sis," Abby finally calls, before the padding of children's feet and descending steps disappear downstairs.

She feels a cold exhale pass her lips.

Harvey shifts immediately, turning over to face her and frowns slightly at the streaming daylight that passes his eyes. She watches with mirth as he composes himself enough to wince at her in his rather ruffled state. "And you accused me of spooning…" He says playfully, if not a tad shyly as he waits for the comment to linger.

"No spoons were involved." She argues, sitting up in the bed as her baggy tshirt hangs loosely around her frame.

"Says the groper." He replies, arching his eyebrow at her.

She tries to block out the notion of ruffled hair and a tired smile on the man in front of her, settling on an eye roll to disarm him.

"Shut up. We better...hustle." She says, the realisation beginning to dawn on her that he'd be coming with. If she were honest with herself, she'd rather leave him in bed, or better than that, _have __**him**__ get up and join her family and leave her to sleep the morning away…._

He senses the ambiguousness immediately. "Hey, I don't have to," He says. "I can't drive yet, I'm still over the limit, but... I can sleep here for a bit?" He offers through a stifled yawn.

She feels the guilt creep into her own features, covering it immediately with a roughness. "Oh no, Mister. If I have to be dragged out of bed this early in the morning, then you're coming with me."

"Spoilsport." He says, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to stand. She notices him wince again at the fineness of age showing in his bones and lingers a little too long at the way the muscles in his back ripple as he stands.

"I can't promise my sister won't be throwing open ended innuendos over the breakfast table, but they do a great english style fry up at the diner."

"Greasy food sounds...about right…and we do have a thing for...diners, after all." He says. He pauses, just for a moment, as if he realises what he's said rather than because of the skeptical look in her eye. "Are you sure?" He asks, facing her.

"Harvey, we're adults. We can handle my little sister's…inappropriate assumptions." She says, spying his unease.

She wonders why her words don't convince either of them.

_Maybe because she's half naked in front of a man who probably remembers vividly what the other half looks like…_

It is a fair point.

* * *

"Oh so you're coming, huh? Morning Harvey." Abby says, as they both appear in the hallway. Harvey frowns at her like he's already sussed her out in less than fifteen hours.

"Yes. Breakfast is imminent, at this point." Donna chimes in, glancing in the mirror at her slightly fluffy hair and 'hangover' make up.

"Yeah, I heard you two come to bed rather…_ late_." She plays, looking at the two of them with relish.

Donna grabs her sister's arm in a flash, punching it a little harder than is playfully allowed between adult siblings. "Oh, my little Sister. Isn't she ghastly?" Donna asks bluntly, the tension seeping out over a laugh as she pinches Abby's cheek, who wrestles her hands away.

"She's uh….certainly a handful. Must be a Paulsen thing." Harvey agrees, smiling slightly.

"Come on we better get going." Abby says, shrugging off her sister to open the front door.

"Are the kids…?" Donna asks, looking around.

"Mom's out in the yard with them. I guess it's just the four of us." Abby says, looking around the doorframe pointedly.

The pit of Donna's stomach sinks as she realises the odds..

_A Double breakfast date with her sister, her sister's husband __**and her Boss**__. Fabulous._

* * *

She'd forgotten how great Toni's was. She used to go there as a teenager, often evading the house for the weekend and taking a minute by herself to get away from the crazy that would eventually become her life. She supposed that this had been what started her love of diners and the fifties; a time that back when you were a kid seemed to have an elegant veneer to it, a decadence that escaped it's very poignant history.

The four of them are shown to a booth in the corner as Abby and Joe squabble over the waitress's choice of where to seat them. Donna looks towards Harvey as he shuffles up the bench next to her, her face taking on an automatic reproach that he quietly challenges amidst his usual poker face. She can't help it, they're circling around something that they shouldn't be and for the first time he isn't helping. If anything he's playing on it, It's unlike him, so young and reckless of him to be like this.

"Stop it." She mutters to him under her breath.

"What?" He asks.

She turns away, picking up a menu.

"Don't tell me, you're going to get the usual?" Her sister asks her, nudging her husband in the process.

_Talk about an inside joke…_

"No I'm thinking something...different." She replies pointedly as she glances at Harvey, who merely smirks. "You?"

"Uh...coffee." Harvey says, ruffling the back of his hair. "A big one…"

"I second that…" She agrees, feeling her head throb.

"How much did you two drink?" Abby asks, eyeing them both.

"Enough…" She strains for an answer, the tenderness of her head making stronger objections, as her own reply starts to ring in her ear. She watches as Abby silently presses further. "Put it this way. I'm going to be sending Dad some Scotch for an early Christmas present."

"Uhh.. I don't know how you drink that stuff. It's vile. Don't you think it's vile, honey?" She asks Joe.

"Yeah, it's not my favourite. Vile is perhaps a little strong a' word..." Joe drolls.

"Actually...Harvey got me into drinking it," Donna says. She notices Harvey frowning at her to her left.

"Really? That's the first time you ever had Scotch? Cameron's?" Harvey asks, turning to her.

"Well it was_ ten years ago_, Harvey…" She smirks. _They were reckless in those days._ And yes, **_she remembers._**

"Ten years ago?" Her sister chimes in.

"This was way, way back, when I worked for him at the D.A.'s office." Donna interjects animatedly.

"I'd just gotten a promotion," Harvey adds. "And I thought that we might-"

"He hit on me." Donna interrupts. _Long story very short._

"From what I remember you didn't need much… hitting?" Harvey elbows her, looking towards her sister to reaffirm his point.

"Figures." Abby agrees. "In Highschool, she was certainly the-" Donna interrupts her, glaring.

"If we're remembering correctly Harvey, I told you that I didn't date men I worked with. And so…. Scotch is pretty much the end of that." She frowns, glancing down at her menu. "I'd like to order now." She says, her words clipped and blunt for all to hear.

Her sister catches on in a heartbeat, sitting back to glance at her own menu. She doesn't dare look at Harvey.

"So...what does your girlfriend think of you coming here, Harvey?" Abby asks. Her tone is less invasive and more interested.

"Ah...Scottie's known Donna nearly as long as I have. I've known Scottie since College so… she's...fine with it." Harvey says. Donna notices the pokerface, and how well it's worn on him. She's silently thankful that he isn't his usual rude self.

"Wow. She must be some woman. I'm not sure how I'd feel if Joe came to spend a holiday with another woman."

"Abby…." Donna warns.

"No, I was just...saying.." She explains, her hands gesturing at a pace.

"You're shrewd. Like your sister." Harvey replies, smiling slightly.

"Think it runs in the family. Like being a pain in the ass." Donna adds, a nervous laugh as she looks around for the missing waitress.

The table's attention is caught as Harvey tries to pull his phone out of his khaki pants, struggling somewhat as the ring escapes into the air.

"Specter," He says into the receiver as he takes a glance at Donna, who briefly nods.

She knows instantly that the call is work, especially when he makes his silent excuses and shuffles along the bench to the door.

Her sister looks blankly at her. "Work." Donna replies, shrugging.

The missing young woman arrives at their table, popping a hip and taking out her pen and pad.

"Hi, I'm Anna, your server for today. Can I take your order, or do you need more time?" She asks, glancing briefly at a pacing Harvey.

"Uh. No...um… he'll have a… do you do bagels?" Donna asks.

"Of course." The young woman replies.

"Can I get two egg and bacon bagels, both with cheese, to go, along with a tall double shot latte? And then...we would like to eat in…"

"No problem," The waitress says with a smile, jotting down on her pad as she walks towards the server window, just as Harvey makes his way back into the diner, frowning.

"Donna," He starts,

"It'll be five minutes." She replies automatically, that devilish slant in her eye as she waits for him to piece the information together.

"How am I not surprised?" He says, restricting a smile as he goes to sit back down. "The Benton Case," He explains, shaking his head.

"Figures. Did Mike cry?" She asks.

"Like a baby boy. It was actually Jessica, who called,"

"Really?" She asks, something odd and strangely dangerous about Jessica being the one to call. Not Mike. Not Scottie...

"Yeah." He says. She watches his mouth straighten into a stiff line.

"So, you won't be staying for breakfast? That's a shame." Abby replies, the first hint of genuine seriousness since they'd arrived yesterday.

"Abs, sincerity is very suspicious on you," Joe replies, putting his arm around her to give her a quick squeeze.

"Well, I am serious." Abby protests, a disappointed frown on her face as she glances up at her husband who merely chuckles lovingly.

"Sure you are." Harvey chimes in, smirking. The Waitress arrives with almost perfect timing. "Okay, two egg and bacon bagels, with cheese, and a double shot latte." She replies, holding up the brown bag.

"Good choice," Harvey admonishes, as he takes the brown bag and coffee cup, smiling at the waitress. He turns to Donna then, an acute expression on his face. "I still can't drive...you take the car?" He says. It's not an offer.

She's speechless, exposed in front of her sister and brother in-law as he looks at her with that resolute kindness.

"Okay." She says. "Then in_ that_ case…" She says, fishing through her bag for her wallet, her fingers pulling out a card, and then a pen, as she turns the business card over to write on the back of it. "Here," She says handing it to him with a flick of her wrist. "The address of the house, and a cab number. Say my name...he'll give you a good deal." She says, dropping the pen back into her bag.

He frowns slightly, before putting it into his back pocket. "Don't go over 70,"

"I know how to drive Harvey." She says bluntly, looking at her sister for a brief moment.

"Just…be careful." He says quietly.

"Awww...you worried about me?" She plays, a cat-like grin forming.

"About the Car. It's a one of a kind." He merely replies. She's aware of the double meaning.

"Then we'll have a fabulous time together." She says with an over-confident smile. He just rolls his eyes. Another smile returned her way.

"It was nice to meet you guys," He says to Abby and Joe, shaking Joe's hand briefly.

"Likewise. You'll have to make another appearance at some point," Abby offers, looking to Joe who appears his nonchalant self, merely smiling coolly as he sits back in his seat.

"Yeah...maybe." He replies wistfully, glancing at Donna one last time before leaving.

The silence is palpable as they watch him leave. Donna can almost feel the tension of a question building as Harvey disappears around the corner.

Abby whips back around to Donna, anticipation on her face.

"What the HELL is going on with you two?" She asks.

She merely raises an eyebrow at her nosy sister.

**_When she looks back, it was the best call, saying nothing. Her sister would have spread rumours like wildfire, all the way to New York City before he'd even stepped foot on the sidewalk…_**

* * *

When she arrives back at the family home, it's quiet, no doubt her parents have taken the kids out, giving Joe and Abby the morning off. They're good like that, helping out and enjoying it. She wonders if she'll ever get the chance to have kids and leave them with her parents for the day. _It's a fleeting thought_, she thinks as she enters her old bedroom. His things are gone, but the bed is the same as they'd left it, the sheets ruffled in the wake of them, round indents still present on each side, but somehow seeming closer than she'd remembered them being. She spies the car keys on the dresser, and a fifty to replace the money for the food she paid for earlier. She smiles to herself at his exaggerated generosity. It beguiles her sometimes, how she revolves around this man, this high flyer who was once just a hopeful employee tackling the rungs on the ladder. It's strange, how she's really just..._stayed; _remained the same, always solid, structured, but never more than she ever was and yet he...he, seems to be changing with the tide, every minute of every day, he's growing,

and she isn't.

They are beautiful and tragic. She wishes she was the former and not the latter.

* * *

"Ray," He nods to his driver, sliding into the car as the evening winter blacks out the skyline with purpose.

"Nice to have you back, Harvey. Good Halloween?" Ray asks, peering at him through the rearview mirror.

"A little too short." Harvey answers. The truth in his own words hit harder in the cold air.

"I'll say." Ray replies, looking out onto the busy traffic.

In all honesty, he was glad to have the day finished. He'd arrived back at the firm to chaos and deadlines and a foray of problems to solve. And Mike had handled himself well, all things considered. And being as he was, the kid never once asked a lingering question about him and Donna. He was good like that; knew when not to push the situation that was them.

But it didn't stop him thinking about it. About relationships. About..._love_.

Now, Harvey Specter doesn't think about love. Hell, he seldom lingers on the notion of it long enough to understand it.

But, Mike - of all people - had changed that. Even he had struggled the realisation of such a thing.

But he realises it all now, that the kid pushed the envelope in his mind the moment that he'd stormed into his apartment asking how to keep it all out. At the time, he'd admitted to being completely unequipped, stunted almost and unable to deal with love, let alone even coach the kid on it.

Love was not his forte.

But it had pushed something, moved something in the back of his head, and when Scottie had returned into his life and was staring up at him through thick lashes and waves of hair he just…

Jumped. _A little._

At the time it seemed like the logical thing to do, to give her what she wanted for once.

And he _did_ want her in his life. He _did_ care. He didn't want her to look up at him with that same disappointment anymore, and more than that… he just... wanted someone to be with for an immeasurable amount of time.

He'd never refused getting older, and still didn't. Maybe that was why the need to settle down was starting to matter all the more; when you'd been handed everything you ever wanted and you'd moved past the fast lane lifestyle you just… wanted to be with someone.

The **right** someone.

And on that note...the lingering doubt that he had fallen short with that part of his life was making itself heard all the more.

He arrived outside his building, opening the door with a goodbye to his driver.

He knew then, that this was it.

_Another hard step to take._

And this one, would not be as easy.

* * *

When he opens the door to his apartment, overnight bag in hand, he spies her watching him, hawk eyed, from the sofa.

_Legs crossed._

_Eyes narrowed._

Two glasses of wine on the table.

"Hey." He says

"Hey." She replies, the indignation present in her voice as she cocks her head to the side, her defined jet black looking curls falling against her cheek.

He places his bag a stool at the breakfast bar before facing her.

"I'm sorry I had to cancel dinner. The Benson case,"

"I heard. How was it?" She asks, somewhat restrained.

"A little neater than it was before I left. Mike's going to handle the rest tonight." He sighs.

She nods, picking up her glass of wine to watch it swirl, slowly. "How was...Halloween?" She asks, every intention in her voice as her eyes glare at his.

"Good." He says. He knows what she's doing. She has all the right and he's going to let her win. Somehow this time it's different, no need to point out or accuse as some sort of foreplay. He doesn't want to give her ammo, nor hurt her. Just...let her win what's playing on her mind. It's a new position for him to be this selfless.

"Just...good?" She asks, clipped, noticing the sagging air around his answer.

"Kids. Candy. That's about it." He shrugs.

"That's all you're going to say?" She asks, frowning. "Harvey...if you can't tell me everything then this is-"

"You're right. And I'm sorry." He interrupts. "It's just...not," He can feel himself teetering on the edge of the finality in his own words. In the finality of a defining moment.

"Not what?" She asks, a flash in her eyes.

"It's not going to work, Scottie." He says heavily.

He watches the fury sharpen in her features as she straightens, the tension holding her in her seat. "Did you sleep with her?" She asks, almost accuses.

"No." He answers, shaking his head.

"Did you kiss her?" She asks, harder this time.

"No," He answers again.

When he hears the sound of his own voice, he's not surprised that she questions him. First with a look.

"No?" She asks, an eyebrow raising when he doesn't reaffirm as such.

_But he owes her the truth_. He sighs, shuffling his feet for a firmer connection with the ground beneath him.

"No, but I… _I wanted to_." He admits, carefully.

It still hits her like a freight train.

He knows the words are harsh, but he's tired of the elephant in the room. He suspects she identifies with that, at least.

"You…" She says, exasperated as she stands up. "I can't… you're an asshole." She says, gasping for words.

"Scottie. I'm being honest. I _do_ love you, but… this isn't going to work."

He never thought in a million years that he'd be saying these words to her. A flash of their first meeting makes a fleeting passage into concious mind.

"Are you in love with her?" She asks, oddly calm but no less observant. He watches her hands ball into fists.

"I...I don't know." He says. It's the truth. He can't be sure of anything except the nagging feeling in his gut.

She sneers at his vague understanding of self.

"_I knew it_. I knew it year ago and yet… I never asked you." Her words trail, squinting as if to find some better truth in all this.

"I never thought about it until a year ago." He replies.

"What happened a year ago, Harvey?" She asks, her eyes flashing once more, and brighter.

"She got fired." He says, simply.

She frowns, as if it's not enough of a reason. Maybe it's not but it's all he has to offer.

"That's it?" She fires at him, still not understanding.

"Yeah."

"I asked her if she was in love with you." She says, the words bitter in her mouth. "She said no."

"She said the same thing to me." He adds.

"Maybe she doesn't love you." She says, the words hard and meaningful.

"It still doesn't change this...not working, Scottie. I lov-" He starts. She interrupts, raising a hand.

"Save it. You don't love me enough, Harvey." She says, swallowing his words.

"Scottie. I'm...sorry." He agrees. It's one of those bad truths.

"No. I'm sorry. I'm sorry ever met you. I'm sorry that I came back, that I pushed for me to move in. Clearly, I was stupid...so stupid to think you could ever..." She reins the outburst in, sighing heavily in defeat.

_The Gigue is up._

"I don't want to lose you." He says, the meaning hard and true.

"And I...don't want to see you...**for a while**. _Or her_." She says, stalking into the bedroom. He follows, magnetised.

"Scottie, I didn't betray you." He says, watching her pull out an overnight bag.

"Yes you did. You do every day. In here," She points to her heart. It would seem saccharin if it wasn't such a damning truth. "I've let it go and let it go. Even _she_ let it go. But you..you just can't...let go of her, can you? No wonder she doesn't ever have a relationship, she's implicitly tied _to you_."

"This is about us, Scottie… not her."

"No. If she didn't exist there wouldn't be a problem between us. You put her between us since the moment I came back, Harvey. Maybe she's always been there." She says, pointing at him with a hand full of clothing, the anger building in her all the more.

"She's a part of my life. She always will be. You've always known that." He says, measured, trying to cut through her building anger.

"Because you factor her into it, Harvey!" She says, finally the breach of her own resolve. "You're a son of a bitch."

"Scottie." He says, watching her fumble for her things.

"Scottie." He repeats, watching her frantic hands pick through draws.

When she turns to face him, her eyes are brimming. It tugs at his heart.

"I'm done. I'm stupid and I am done." She says, her voice breaking.

"I never meant to hurt you."

"You know what…" She says, a dry laugh escaping her. "I actually believe that. Goodbye Harvey." Is her last reply, an almost whisper.

He doesn't follow her, hearing the door slam in the with a thud in the distance.

In truth, she'd would be too easily pliable if he did and then he'd have to do it all over again which would only hurt her further…

He doesn't want to hurt her anymore.

* * *

For Donna, Saturday had fallen on her suddenly with a thud. The invisible impulse to leave was mounting and making her fingers itch with a purpose.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay longer? You usually stay the whole weekend?" Said her mother, helping her with her bags.

"I know Mom...but if I don't get back there now, we could have a backlash of work over the weekend that will ruin the week. Harvey could need my help."

"Is he worth it?" She suddenly asks. It knocks her for six. She'd forgotten how her mother could do that to her. Blind her with intuition. That was usually her forte.

"He's a good boss." She replies evenly._ Ever the actress._

"You know what I mean, honey."

"Don't I just," She smirks. Her mother is definitely the person that she gets the supposed omniscience from. She kisses her cheek. "Love you, Mom."

"Say hi to Harvey for me." She replies.

Donna shakes her head, closing the boot of the car, the weight of the heavy key in her hand as she opens the door to get in. She turns the key, the ignition starting as the car starts to purr, looking out at her Mom as she begins to reverse off of the drive. The car is smooth and controlled, as she turns on the cd player, John Containe ringing out of the dash.

And the whole journey home, she feels nothing but Harvey all around her.

* * *

When she walks into the office four hours later, her hair immaculate and clad in Diane von Furstenberg - a laced panelled charcoal and grey dress, very angular and sharp for a saturday - she's not surprised to find him placing a few files on her desk with care.

"It's like you knew I was coming back," She says examining him. He'd taken time to dress this morning, his slate coloured suit impeccable, his silvery blue tie poker straight.

He's hiding something. _Something big._

"Shouldn't you have the weekend off?" He frowns, straightening from the desk.

"I heard my Boss had this big case to win and might need my expertise." She says, grinning.

"Regardless. You don't need to be here." He says, a strange tenderness in his eyes.

"Well, this new dress needed a walk around the park so I figured, a penny earned is a penny-"

"Donna? Aren't you supposed to be Halloweening?" Mike asks, appearing at her side.

"Yes. I did. I graced the holiday with my presence and now I'm needed elsewhere. You're both welcome by the way." She rolls her eyes.

Every the subtle gentleman.

"Mike?" Harvey suddenly asks, turning to him.

"Yes?" He asks, his eyes widening.

"Is Rachel off today?" He asks his associate.

"Yes?" Mike frowns, suspicion painting his face.

"Is she… busy?" Harvey asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Haha," Mike replies, a stiff, overly sarcastic laugh falling out. "...for you she may be."

Harvey suddenly turns to her. She knows immediately that he has something up his sleeve.

"Donna," he says expectantly.

"What?" She asks, the vowels of suspicion stretching.

"Go take Rachel to lunch. On me," He says plainly, whilst the nuance in his voice is directed at Mike through a cheeky sideways glance.

"Are you...firing me?" She asks, the fake alarm on her face.

"For the day." He replies, smirking. "Scram." He says, the words falling finally into a smile.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" She asks, gracefully cocking her hip.

"Mike and I have got everything covered here, Donna." He says. She examines him for a second, the overly confident swagger, his still immovable windsor knot.

"Fine. I'm not coming back." She warns, huffing. _If he is kicking her out, then he's going to pay for it… literally._

"Good. I don't need a drunk Assistant in my office." He says, handing her his card. When she takes it, she feels a pull on his end, until she looks up to see a grin on his lips when he finally lets go.

_She doesn't need to be told twice to take the day off._

But the reasons for linger in her mind until she meets Rachel. **Something is up.**

* * *

"So… how was… Halloween?" Rachel asks, a typically 'Rachel' laced innuendo on her lips as she shuffles in her seat.

"I don't know what you're referring to," Donna says coyly, taking a sip of her water. _She's not about to divulge everything about her weekend. The city does have eyes and ears..._

"Mike told me that _Harvey told you_ to take the day off," Rachel fishes, smiling as her fingers mold her napkin to her lap.

"That's correct." Donna says. "And how very highschool of you."

"That's it? That's all you're going to say?" Her friend whines, pouting somewhat.

It's too fun for her to watch the young woman squirm at being out of the loop.

"There's nothing else to tell, Rachel. I went to Cortland. Candy and Costumes were had. Now I'm back."

"And Harvey's back too. But you came back a day later..? Interesting." Rachel presses further, coyly playing with her knife and fork setting.

"Jessica called. He had to work." Donna shrugs.

"Donna. You have my confidence." She says.

"Do I? What about Mike?" She asks, immediately regretting the harshness of her tone.

"Doesn't privilege extend to the four of us?" She asks.

She's right. But she's not ready.

"Not with this." She says.

"Okay. Fine. Be coy. Maybe then I won't tell you that Harvey broke up with Scottie last night and told Mike about it,"

Donna's face fell instantly, the sound of china in the background ringing through her ears. "What?"

"Told him this morning." She adds, smirking.

The young woman always knows when there's a tug on the line. _The vixen._

"I knew something was up, but I just…" Donna muses, half to herself. She could feel it from the moment she'd walked through the door that morning. The Suit. The whimsical attitude. _The Day off_. He'd been up to something from the get go.

"I figured it was about you? Maybe it is..."

"Rachel." She warns. The day is starting to blanch into the unknown. She can almost feel the start of claminess on her hands. It's unbecoming.

"Donna. He broke up with her. After coming back from Cortland." Rachel says, the expectancy clear in her words. She hates to be the one to dash the young woman's hopes of a romantic comedy ending.

"They're not connected."

"Tell me what happened up there." Rachel asks. It's hard to keep the woman at bay when she's grinning expectantly grinning back at you to the point where you can spy her uvula.

"Nothing...we were…?"

"Did you sleep with him?" She asks.

Ah. _The defining question._

"No." She says, the words solid.

"But you wanted to?" She asks.

"No." Again. Solid.

"You know, I'm starting to wonder if any of the answers that you've given to questions about Harvey have been the whole truth..."

"I wouldn't lie to you, Rach." She says, frowning somewhat. She's not lying and yet the truth is...not an option, at this point.

"No. You keep things from me. From Mike, too. You both do." She clarifies, an odd seriousness sharpening her face all the more.

When she finally looks up, she's confronted with the steely-eyed look of her best friend, dark brown eyes boring into hers.

She lets out an exhaustible sigh.

"He told me that she'd moved in. And that he thought that he had made a mistake. I went to bed early. He knocked on my door, complaining of a bad back and we slept in the same bed. Nothing happened. Nothing will happen. Ever."

"Nothing happened? ...Why not?" She says, a ghost of a moment they'd shared almost a year ago to the day.

"Because - at the time, apparently - he was with Scottie. This never leaves the table, Rachel." She warns softly.

"Of course not." She reaffirms. In a flash her face lights up. "Did you… _cuddle_?" She asks, hopeful expression in need of a the right answer.

Either she's too tired of the long journey or the ten years before it, but there's something in her that finally needs to talk about it. Possibly her mother is the impetus. She's not sure anymore.

"I may have woken up a little closer to him that I..._expected to be_." She finally says, the scandal of the though on her face.

"You spooned him, didn't you?" Rachel accuses excitedly through a hushed tone, looking around the restaurant at the nameless faces occupying tables.

"Every. Last. Inch." She replies.

"What are you going to do? With work?" Rachel asks, grinning back at her.

"Honestly...I don't want to think about it. I don't want anything to change." She says, stopping the thought from lingering longer than necessary.

"Really?" Rachel questions.

The expression is odd, as if it's not completely obvious how bad of an idea they're stepped on.

"Look, I love my job...and I love our relationship as it is. It's more important than any possibility there may be. You and Mike… you were lucky. We're in a different situation. There's more history with us."

"Aren't you curious to...test the merchandise?"

"Rachel, Rachel, Rachel. **_I don't need to take two sips to get a taste_**." She says, taking another sip of her water.

She watches the blood drain from the paralegal's face.

"Oh my god. You did lie. When? Donna. You promised. I can't believe it. Tell me _everything_."

"This is why I lied: It was...ten years ago."

"Really?"

"What can I say. He was young and I was stupid." She shrugs.

"And...never again?"

"It was part of my condition for joining the firm." She reasons. _The best worst mistake she'd ever made..._

"And it held up?"

"I'm stubborn...and oddly, Scottie fell back into the picture within a year, so."

It was then that she'd realised. The full circle element of their complicated past. Scottie and Harvey, Her and Harvey, Scottie and Harvey,

_And back again. But was that the end of it all?_

"But," Rachel starts, pausing.

"What?" Donna asks, unsure of the suspension in her friend's words.

"But..she's not in the picture anymore?" She says, the wistfulness in her expression. The hope. The Idea of such a thing.

_Maybe Rachel was right,_

This position was... a new one… he had made a choice this time.

And all at once, her hands start to sweat all the more.

* * *

He's been pacing for half an hour outside her building.

_He should have called._

Honestly,

He didn't have the stones.

But now he's stuck,

Between a Limo,

_And a doorway,_

With Caller Entry.

He feels stupid, out of place on the sidewalk in a neighbourhood deemed questionable in it's later hours.

The pit of his stomach rises when he sees a little old lady amble out of the apartments, with a walker and a pink wooly hat. He jumps at the opportunity, opening the door for her.

The old lady looks up at him from her hunched form. "Thank you very much, young man." She says, until she spies him opening the door further. "Are you here to see someone?" She asks.

"Uh. Donna…? On the second floor?" He says, his cheeks pinching at her forthrightness.

The woman straightens in recollection, a smile forming on her lips. "Ah," She says, pointing a finger at him. "_The redhead_. She's a feisty one," The lady says.

"She sure is. May I?" He asks, gesturing down the hall.

"Good luck, young man." She says, a glint very much in her eye as she returns to her walker.

It's now or never.

_On the best wishes of an elderly neighbour._

* * *

Her fingers tighten around the door the moment she opens it and sees his face.

It's the worst time to not look in the peephole. She feels the deja'vu of the moment creep in with a timed precision that she supposes _only he can devise_...

"Harvey." She states, the sound of her voice dropping as she takes him in. He's dressed casually again, without the suit armour and bravado. It makes her nervous and longing for razor sharp heels and angular workwear.

"I ended it." He says simply, his hands in his pockets and _that look_ on his face.

"I figured." She replies, nodding. Although her response is forced confidence, It was bound to happen some time. Had Rachel not told her, the day before then it would have almost been a surprise.

"I ended it," He continues. "Because it wasn't working,"

"Okay…" She says slowly, measuredly.

"And...because..._we_ are,"

"Harvey." She objects slightly, frowning.

"I can't ignore it anymore, Donna. Can you?" He asks, the full weight of his gaze forcing her resolve.

So,_ it's come to that_. Right on the last tack of their perfect little arrangement.

"Harvey, just because you ended it, that doesn't mean that-"

"Really? You're going with that right now?"

All at once she finds the smirk on his face as adorable as she does annoying.

"Why does it have to be on** your** terms? With Stephen….you even said that you _still_ weren't-"

"-that was different." He reasons, cutting her off.

"How so?" She fires the question, her hand pushing against the door frame.

"You were with him at the time. I don't cheat."

"And after I wasn't?"

"Donna it was...a lot was…going on. I needed time."

"With Scottie?" She states, an indignation in her voice that even she doesn't understand.

"Yeah. I...yes. And now...I'm ready." He says.

"So? I'm **not** ready."

"Do you really mean that?" He asks, taking a minute step forward that feels like a mile.

"Yes. I'm not ready to lose my job, Harvey." She says, her grip on the shield-like door hardening all the more.

"I-" He stutters; the action seems so strange on him.

"I mean it, Harvey." She warns.

"So...what now?" He asks. She can see the frustration start to build in him. He's not a patient man.

"I...I don't know. I guess...we take it all…"

"Slow?" He asks. She can tell instantly by his tone and his skeptical look just how much stock he has in that as an idea...not that that's what she meant.

"One day at a time." She clarifies.

"Until….you're ready?" He asks heavily.

"Until we both are. At the right time. _At the same time_."

She watches as he takes in the information, his hands pulling out of his pockets to hang limply.

"What if there's never a right time?" He asks, the lawyer in him peaking out.

_It's a good point, _she thinks to herself. They've not exactly been good...timing.

"Then...it never happens." She reasons, the fragility of each word changing his features minute by minute. It's time to start thinking practically about his proposal.

"Why won't you break it for me?" He asks suddenly, cutting her time to think.

She blinks at him through tired eyes. "What?" She asks.

"Your rule?_ You did it for him_." He accuses, wincing against the remembrance of the man. To this day, she can see how it affects him just the same, a mark against their unspoken relationship.

"That was…haven't we already covered this? We both saw that blow up in my face, Harvey. I made a mistake."

"So make another one." He presses, the croon in his voice more than painting the air red, now has her suddenly ramrod straight, balanced on the threshold of her own front door.

"Harvey." She warns, abating the shiver up her spin when he takes another, more prominent step towards her, their breath close to mingling.

"Make another one. Donna." He presses.

"We're both getting old." She replies. It's a moot point.

"You're still as beautiful as you were ten years ago." He whispers.

"Oh my god, that is such a bad line…" She laughs, rolling her eyes at him. She nearly shuts the door in his face, there and then.

"It's the truth." He insists. "Look, I know I've never said it. I didn't think it was...appropriate. Considering the last time I said it, _we were both_-"

"Ah!" She objects, her left hand coming between them.

"Just...let me… come in." He croons. She doesn't miss his lean towards the double entendre...

"_Come in_ where exactly?" She insinuates, her face sharpening for a moment until her tact changes. "Don't think because you had to let go of your fuck buddy, that you can come here and give me another job to do…"

"Don't act like you don't enjoy it. You're one of the most vivacious women in Manhattan. I should know." He says, the clear memory of such giving him a self satisfied smirk.

"Wow, you make me sound like a hooker," She says bluntly, rolling her eyes.

"No. You're sexually confident. And I'm..._sexually confident_. So let's just be…" His words linger, until he watches her quietly and stubbornly fold her arms. "Donna," He whines.

"Oh. Yes, Whining is changing my mind. You win!" She says, looking back at him.

The sarcasm isn't lost on him for a second...

"Donna. " He says, firmer this time.

"Harvey. I'm not...we're not. I'm not-"

She should have known that he'd try to kiss her.

It was so unlike him and yet something his younger self would have done in a heartbeat if he thought he could have gotten away with it.

She always thought she would slap him if he ever tried it. Maybe she didn't know herself as well as she thought she did.

The kiss is soft, and yet firm as he encourages her into the apartment, gently peeling her hand off of the door and into his own, as his foot kicks it shut behind him. His hand finds it's way into her cardigan, cupping her ribcage, as the other plays at the palm of her hand, drawing lazy patterns across in the middle of it as his lips continue to do the talking. It only dawns on her then, as the back of her legs bump against the sofa and his tongue gently encourages her mouth open that they're headed for a fall, she suddenly shocks, grabbing his shoulders as she feels them leaning back and him still pushing. He looks at her then, grinning as he pins her against the sofa, just teetering on the edge of them both falling. The look she gives him tells it all.

"Don't even think about it…" She warns.

"It'll be soft. If it's the same couch. It'll be very soft…" He says, grinning still.

"For you maybe, you'll have two breasts to cushion the blow." She remarks dryly. She watches as he tries to cover a smile with a thoughtfulness.

"Oh, I didn't think of that." He mumbles, looking at her.

"No?" She asks, disbelief on her face as she smiles softly, her hand brushing across his face.

He suddenly lifts her slightly, his hands cupping her ass as he pops her on the backrest of the sofa. "But now that you think about it.." He mumbles as his mouth finds the skin under her right clavicle.

"What happened to taking it slow?" She asks incredulously, watching him shrug off his jacket in the process, placing it next to her with one hand before giving her a look.

"We have a lot to catch up on," He says, slowly parting her legs to get a little closer. She lets out a strangled laugh when he looks at her like he's going to enjoy himself.

"I don't put out on the first date, you know." She points out, pulling at his belt loop to bring him closer, her lips greeting his hungrily.

"This isn't our first date. And we both know that's _not_ true." He says, his hands slipping under her lacy camisole as he plants a kiss to her neck.

He's right. _She's_ the impulsive one.

She learns a lot about them both in that one evening:

That he remembers everything about the first time, in detail,

That she loves being wrapped around him, still, after so much time has passed,

And that he still likes being the little spoon.

-x-


End file.
